


Eulogy

by krasati



Category: Doom Patrol (TV)
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon Fix-It, of sorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 07:05:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18278249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krasati/pseuds/krasati
Summary: Larry and John get their closure because they should and they deserve it. The Negative Spirit helps.





	Eulogy

**Author's Note:**

> Chief isn't here because who cares. Set some time after the main plot.

They were in Von Fuchs’ chamber again. The last surviving one. Jane (or whichever the personality) had wanted to destroy it in violently destructive ways, but Larry had stopped her. Jane, as always, was prepared to demand some answers when Cliff clasped a hand on her shoulder.

“You want to use it?” He asked.

“I need it,” Larry replied, and quickly added before understanding curiosity turned into suspicion, “it lets me speaks to the energy inside me,”

Rita looked concerned. “You will be safe then? No strange ‘upgrades’?”

“The last time I was there I didn’t change,” he said. He regretted immediately, because Vic and Rita would latch on this tidbit.

“Okay,” Vic said instead, “We’ll destroy it after,”

Larry nodded. Then, with a spark of bravery, “Will you help me, set it up?”

Vic smiled. “Of course.”

* * *

 

They worked together. Vic guided everyone since he had more practical skills than the rest of the combined. Cliff did the heavy lifting. Rita helped squeezing into the nifty bits. Jane switched around her personalities for the parts that required unique expertise and Larry helped with some of the engineering.

And soon enough, it was done, amidst the remnants from a previous fire.

“Von Fuchs said that the chamber changed you for ‘the better’. I guess that means you are the best you are right now,” Jane patted him on the arm. Larry had expected her to put up more of a fight when he stopped her. It was kindness, he realised. Kindness that all of them had, for one another in this ragtag team, abandoned by the world. Except Vic, well, who had lots of potential - Larry knew that one day he would make it big and have to leave the group. But that would be a question for another day.

“Thank you,” Larry said. He hoped his voice carried the sincerity through the bandages.

“Let us know when you are ready to come out.”

Larry inhaled deeply, and stepped into the chamber.

Whirling sounds. Bright light. The buzz of electricity. The burst of negative energy from his chest.

Then his skin was free. He opened his eyes. There it was, the energy, humanoid thing, hovering right in front of the door. It made a sound that echoed through the chamber.

“I’m not leaving the door,” Larry said, "I’m- I just,”

He took a deep breath, and thought about the things he prepared to say, things he should have said earlier instead of snapping at everyone.

“Thank you for saving us, for doing all that you did. And I’m sorry. I fucked up. My life was going to be fucked up when I am the one living in, whether or not I crashed into you in space. I am sorry for yelling at you.”

The Negative Spirit made another sound.

Larry stared incredulously, “Did you just whine?”

It whined.

“Okay. Yeah. We gotta find a way to communicate. And we need some rules because we need each other, alright?” It rumbled, closest to an acquiesce it could manage. Good. This was a start. Larry had burned enough bridges and made enough regrets for decades. Moving into the manor was the start of a new life. He was just too bitter and stupid to see it. Now to think about it, everyone in the manor was pretty much immortal, stuck in this stupid rut of a life together. Though, if they kept getting themselves into trouble they were probably going to die either way.

Larry laughed. The Other, the powerful energy-thing that lived within him, echoed. He kind of understood it. There was hope.

“Okay it’s time to come back in now. We gotta let Jane destroy the chamber,” he said.

The ever present electricity buzzed, faster and faster, and the being in front of him seemed to glow brighter and brighter and-

“Hey.”

Larry’s heart stilled. It always did, when he heard John’s voice, even back when they were together. Even when he burned that bridge and never saw him again and it haunted him in his dreams. And like what he was willed to always do, he ran into John’s arms.

John held him like it was 1961, like it was minutes before he would attempt a risky flight. And he kissed him as desperately as the minute of privacy between the USAF trailers could provide. His lips were warm. In his embrace he felt the warmth of the thousands of sunrises he had missed when isolated from the rest of the world. He buried his face in the crook of John's neck.

John ran his fingers through the curls of his hair. “Shhh,” he whispered, and the other hand rubbed gently up and down his side. “I’m here.”

“Are you real?” Larry mumbled into his shoulder.

“I am for now,” John said. That was enough.

“Do you hate me?”

“What for?”

For breaking your heart, over and over again. For treating you like shit. For not coming to your funeral when you died. For loving you and keeping it secret and making you a shame.

“You know,” Larry said wetly, “you are dead. You know the shit I did. All things I have put you through,”

The hands on him stilled. John pulled the two of them slightly apart and cradled his face instead. God, he looked the same. Like he jumped out of his best and worst memories. And he was everything Larry wanted and everything he gave up at the same time.

“And I should have stayed, when you were at your lowest. I shouldn’t have left you locked in a room. I shouldn’t have let it end just like that.” John pressed their foreheads together.

Larry couldn’t help himself. He kissed him again. “You are trying to make me feel better aren’t you. You did nothing wrong. I made too many mistakes,” 

“Maybe,” John conceded, thumb idly wiping a tear track from his face, “we were born in the wrong time, weren’t we? But listen, I am dead. You are alive, so so alive. You found a place to belong. You don’t need me, and you don’t need 1960s trauma following you at every step of the day. You need to forgive yourself and move on. I need you to do that for me, Lar?”

Larry stared into his eyes.

"Promise me? Please,"

The hands on his shoulder gave a comforting squeeze, and the strength came easily, “I promise."

“Good.”

John, the kindest man he ever knew, the love of his life who offered him a connection the he would do anything to have it back, held him close.

Larry choked,“I’m so, so sorry.”

John hummed softly against his hair.

“I know, baby.”

* * *

 

And in the flash of blinding light, John was gone. 

“Larry!" Cliff yelled from outside, "You good?"

"I'm fine!" he yelled back. He had felt it before he knew it, but as a reflex he looked at his palms. The gloves were on. The bandages were on. He knew that his skin was back to its mottled burnt self. He covered his face with his hands.

“Thank you,” he said aloud, “for everything.”

“Did you say something?” Jane shouted from outside.

“I’m coming!” He straightened his coat, and pushed his shoulders back. Then he made his way out of the chamber, a little excited to watch Jane destroy the last of Von Fuch’s creation, feeling the ghost of a kiss clinging to his lips beneath the bandages.

**Author's Note:**

> I posted it earlier on tumblr and I forgot to put it here  
> link: https://kainespider.tumblr.com/post/183163330218/god-the-ep-fucked-me-up-so-i-wrote-some-words-for


End file.
